The Whole Works of William Browne of Tavistock ... Now first collected and edited, with a memoir of the poet, and notes, by W. Carew Hazlitt, of the Inner Temple |
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The Whole Works of William Browne | ||
AN EPITAPH.
Faire Canace this little Tombe doth hyde,Whoe onely seuen Decembers told and dyde.
O Crueltie! O synne! yet no man heere
Must for so short a life let fall a Teare;
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First seas'd her mouth, & spoil'd her sweet aspect:
A horrid Ill her kisses bitt away,
And gaue her almost liples to the Clay.
Is Destinye so swift a flight did will her,
It might haue found some other way to kill her;
But Death first strooke her dumb, in hast to haue her,
Lest her sweete tongue should force the Fates to save her.
The Whole Works of William Browne | ||